


The Night Before Christmas

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Humor, Merry Christmas, Parody, Poetry, What am I doing with my life?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:31:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone's favourite Christmas poem, with a Hannibal-style twist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house  
Not a creature was stirring, not even Winston;  
My stocking was not hung, rather it lay on the floor  
Because I had been at a crime scene until half past four.

My dogs were nestled, mostly in my bed,  
While visions of Milk Bones danced in their heads;  
Alana had crashed on my couch, and I'd not protested,  
Since she had helped get the killer arrested.

Then in my dreams, I had quite a fright,  
I sprang from the bed to see if I was alright.  
I stood on the rooftop in just my pyjamas,  
Hoping that my fit hadn't woken Alana.

The moon shining down on the Virginia snow  
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,  
When, what to my sleep-deprived eyes should appear,  
But a man in a suit, and eight rather large deer,

Dressed up in paisley, and standing up tall,  
I knew in a moment it was... Hannibal?  
A grin on his face, he opened my door,  
And he stepped right inside, tracking snow on my floor!

Then Alana was there, she woke with a shout,  
"You're planting evidence, you sick bastard, get out!  
You must be the Ripper! But now your plan will fail!  
I'm calling Crawford and you're going to jail!"

As police car sirens blared in the distance,  
I ran back downstairs, without putting on pants,  
Up to my house, Jack Crawford had driven,  
With Jimmy and Brian, and Beverly with him.

And then, in a second, they burst in the door  
the FBI, SWAT Team, and then even more.  
As I stifled a cry and tried to stay calm,  
'Twas with a sigh Hannibal opened his palms.

He was holding a fish hook, must have been one of mine,  
And his thumb had been pricked, blood dripped on the twine.  
Some sausages that he had flung to my pets,  
They were probably human, I was willing to bet.

His eyes--how they glared! His lips were pulled back!  
His smile was a serpent's, his pupils were black!  
His white little teeth were clenched as he looked at his foe,  
and the skin on his face was pale white as the snow.  
The last of the meat, he had dropped on the ground,  
and the Chesapeake Ripper at last had been found.  
He would now be locked up and I would be free,  
to get psychiatric help, because that's all that I need.

Jack was tired and angry, but didn't mind this,  
and he smiled as he put cuff 'round Hannibal's wrists.  
A flip of his hand and a twist of his head  
soon gave me to know I had no more to dread. 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,  
and had an agent take away that big jerk.  
And laying his hand on top of my shoulder,  
He gave me a nod, and told me, "It's over."

He ran to his car, the whole team drove away,  
And as they sped down the road, I found something to say.  
They all heard me exclaim, as they drove out of sight,

"Fuck you, Hannibal, now I'm finally alright!"

**Author's Note:**

> Don't look at me like that.


End file.
